


A New Book

by ArthurAlbion, EverettGrendel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurAlbion/pseuds/ArthurAlbion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverettGrendel/pseuds/EverettGrendel
Summary: That awkward moment when you find a thirty-year-old book written about yourself and your best friend.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	A New Book

**Author's Note:**

> This was entirely inspired by [Neil Gaiman's post.](https://neil-gaiman.tumblr.com/post/190867715426/hi-i-saw-a-post-about-how-fond-aziraphale-is-of)

“Angel!”

The door to the bookshop was thrown open and slammed off the wall with a bounce causing the four customers in the shop to jump at the sudden noise. Three of them immediately returned their books to the shelves then started for the door. The regulars knew by now that when the goth in the sunglasses showed up, it was time to leave as the shop would be closing. They were all fairly positive this man was the shopkeep’s boyfriend, but no one had ever had the nerve to ask. Fell was so fussy about his books, it only stood to reason he would be downright scandalised to be asked about his personal life.

The unfortunate soul that had not received this silent memo about leaving, opened their mouth to chastise the loud newcomer. A brave regular shook their head vehemently in warning and shuffled them off to the door as well, despite their protests.

Crowley ignored all of this as his eyes searched the shop for the angel in question. Aziraphale hurried out of the back room, pleased to hear the demon’s arrival. Even if it was rather loud and dramatic. “Hello, Crowley. Lovely to see you.”

When the door was closed behind the customers, Aziraphale flipped the sign with a wide, unapologetic smile. He was not sorry to see the humans go, and he was glad not to have made any sales that day. The regulars were allowed to be regulars only because they knew better than to attempt to buy anything. This arrangement suited Aziraphale quite well.

“Angel. Have you seen this?” Crowley handed Aziraphale a book, which was not surprising. What was rather surprising was the cover of the book. It was a slightly older paperback, likely from the early 1990s if Aziraphale’s keen eye was anything to go by, with an odd and wiggly sort of circle surrounding the numbers 666. An angelic eyebrow raised in confusion as he took in the full title.

“Crowley, where did you find this?”

Aziraphale spoke slowly as he opened the cover carefully and began to take in the publication and copyright information. He frowned at the recommendation not to bring about Armageddon in your own home, though he silently agreed it would be a terrible idea.

“Adam texted me about it. Said he saw something about it on Amazon, so I bought it. I thought he was playing some joke, but no. ‘S real.”

Aziraphale turned a few more pages to what appeared to be the first chapter, though it was not labelled “Chapter One” as you might expect.

“ _In The Beginning_ ,” he read aloud. “Oh, Lord. As if anyone these days could have written about that with any degree of accuracy. Even the Bible has its various faults about all that. Depending on which version you might possess, of course.”

Aziraphale would know, given just how many versions of the Bible he had in his vast collection. They were treasured almost as dearly as his books of prophecy.

It was shocking to realise, as he read on, that this was not a book generically about the Genesis story of the world’s creation, but rather it seemed to be specifically about his initial meeting with Crowley. Or Crawly as he was back then. The conversation the authors had written was actually their exact words to each other. Aziraphale remembered the day with perfect clarity. The angel flipped back to the cover and mouthed the names of the two authors.

“You know, I am quite fond of Sir Terry Pratchett’s work, but I must admit I am less familiar with this Gaiman. He’s a modern author, isn’t he?”

The question was largely rhetorical, and they both knew this. If anyone was going to know authors, it was likely not the demon. Crowley didn’t reply.

“Have you already read this then, Crowley?”

“Not exactly, no. Only the first couple of pages there. Before I rushed over here with it. I suppose it could still be one of Adam’s pranks, but doesn’t feel like his usual MO, y’know.”

Aziraphale didn’t know, but he nodded in agreement all the same.

“Look at the dedication, angel. In the front.”

Turning back a couple of pages, Aziraphale audibly gasped. He glanced up at Crowley before looking back at the book.

“ _The authors would like to join the demon Crowley in dedicating this book to the memory of G. K. Chesterton. A man who knew what was going on._ ”

“How could they know I met Chesterton? He died almost a century ago! How can this book be “in accordance with the _Nice and Accurate Prophecies_ ”? You said that book only ever had one copy and we know Book Girl had it in her family since Agnes Nutter exploded at the stake. How did they ever read it? How did they know my name?! I haven’t gone by _Crawly_ in millennia!”

Crowley lowered his voice, despite the fact they were very alone in the shop. “Do you think it has something to do with our, you know, previous employers?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes at that. He thought Crowley was too paranoid sometimes, especially now when they were a few years on from Armageddon. Rather, what would have been Armageddon. “I very much doubt it has anything to do with Heaven or Hell, my dear.”

Declaring this with an air of finality about the point, the angel crossed the shop to return to the back room. He very much intended to sit and read this entire book cover to cover tonight. Crowley followed, close on the angel’s heels. He could recognise the signs and knew there was nothing else to be done until Aziraphale had finished the book. There was no rushing Aziraphale.

Crowley threw himself onto the couch as Aziraphale settled in at his desk. He hesitated for a moment, eyes locked on the angel. “Could you, uh, would you read it? Aloud, I mean.”

Aziraphale smiled lovingly at the demon and turned to the first page. “Of course, dear boy.”


End file.
